Lie to Me, Blondie
by emeralddusk
Summary: For Allison Harvard's Couple contest. They met through the tragedies that became their lives. Femmeslash


Lie to Me, Blondie

_Sincerely, Blondie_

Manica; sociopath; freak; monster. This is me. This is what I've tunred myself into...I killed my sister, tried to kill my stepfather...but that was all an accident. I was trying to stop him from hurting me...from hurting her. Now, I've lost everything. I have sent myself to hell, and I have to live here with that knowledge every day...Lennox Asylum for the mentally disturbed. I wish I could take it all back; take my so-called father raping me the night our mother died...that way everyone would be happy...everyone but me. Maybe that's the way it's supposed to be, though. As I sit on my bed, hours after lights-out was ordered, I gently swattle the one thing, the only thing that is mine; his name is Guber. He's small, soft, warm, and always looks like he's in love with everything around him. He's my baby; my pearl; my love. He's the only thing I feel cares about me, so I hold him tight and never let him be seen. If I've learned one thing, it's that everything seen here disappears or gets warped until they're not them anymore...even me?

I was being escorted into the cafeteria, which was so much like a school lunch room, but filthy; sticky floors, stained and sitcky utencils, plates that smell like mold, and the sense of being watched; constantly being monitered. "Don't eat too much," my guard told me one day. Then, he pressed into my stomach; like a doctor would to check for ulsers. But that's not what he was doing; he was violating me, shaming me, feeling for meat. I was afraid, confused, still reeling from the medication they forced into my veins earlier that morning, so I did nothing but act scared.

It's late, so I can't really remember, but one person here...one person who never touched me, never acted like I was their sex toy, told me something about me...he said I always looked so young; like I was afraid; like I had been left out in the cold; that's why my cheeks were so red. I gently, silently pulled Guber out from my pillow case, wrapped my arms around him tightly, cradled him in my bossom, then curled up into a fetal position, pulled the cold, thin sheets over my head, then fell asleep. Nightmares...Vague, indistinct images flashing in my mind.

It was that time of the week, so I got to take a shower. I felt like I was living in my own grime every day...It felt good to get out of the filth, and being embraced by warmness. The guards had to watch us, but I felt like I was finally away from them. I let the streaming water wash through my long, bright-blond hair. My body was soon soaked, and I was in near-complete comfort. I was still in a filthy room that resembled a public restroom or unkempt locker room, but I felt okay. Pouring the bottle of the cheap shampoo they finally allowed us to have into my palm, I lathered the gel in my hands, then worked it into my blond locks. This was the only time I liked being alone. However, another girl came in, dropped her clothes on the floor just outside the tiled shower area, and turned the nozzle on next to me. I'd seen her here before, but I didn't know anyone.

"Hi," she said. I caught a glimpse of her dark skin; her flawless complextion. She was Asian, I think, but I wasn't sure, and it really didn't matter.

"Hi," I weakly squeaked out like a little, scared school girl. I worked the foam out of my hair, then ran my hands through it to straighten it alittle. She began scrubbing herself with a weird-looking, foamy ball. I had to look away; I don't know why, though. I had an old wash rag to clean up with, but I didn't feel jealous.

Maybe because she caught me staring, the girl turned to me, her naked body right in front of mine. "Wanna borrow my lufa?" she asked, sounding like she was almost joking. Her long black hair was flawless.

"No thank you," I croaked. She shrugged, then went back to her business. "My name's Amber, by the way," she added.

I smiled, then shut the water off. I told her my name, then walked away, wrapped in my towel. Walking into the bathroom section of our wing, I gazed into a stained and dirty mirror, and began brushing out my hair. Each strand gave way to the comb's influence, and flowed down in straight lines around my neck. Something looked different about my eyes, though; they looked tired.

The door then flew open, and one of the doctors walked in casually. "Baby doll," he called. "Blue wants to see you." With that, without sympathy, he left me alone, half-naked, and scared. This was bad; I must be in horrible trouble. Looking back, I was sure I was alone, then I dropped my towel. I was more thin than I used to be (I didn't forget that day in the cafeteria), and I was kind of pale. I'd been here for about a month, and I'd been dead ever since. Fortunately, I haven't done anything...bad; At least that's what I thought... Not since I got here, anyway. I quickly put on my makeup, threw on my clothes, and went down to Blue's office. Unlike the doctors, I knocked before coming in. "It's open," the man called out, sounding disgusted for no reason. Nervously, I slid the door open, and walked in.

Blue was staring at me like I was the cure for all disease or something. "...You wanted to see me?" I asked, sounding like a four-year-old in teh principal's office.

"Yeah," he answered, getting up from his desk. Blue walked around me, staring at me; looking at me like I was a science project. Then, he walked behind me, picked up the hair on the back of my neck, then stayed still for a second. "I need to talk to you about something..." A chill went down my spine. "Do you know about our special treatment?" I choked in a heavy breath, starting to shake; I think I knew what he was talking about...

"What'd I do?" I asked, scared beyond all belief.

"Babydoll," Blue answered, putting his hands on my shoulders. "Not everyone who comes here gets out...it's what you did to get in here...remember?" I sucked back tears. "I know you hate yourself for it...but I can make you forget it...I can make you forget everything..." A lobotomy...my gosh.

"No, please," I begged. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't even mean to do it in the first place..."

"Baby...there's no fighting it," Blue replied, sounding so sick with every word. "In the mean time, though...you and some of the other girls are going to be reassigned to another institute...start packing." No emotion; no compassion. It was all coming to an end. I could cry...

That's when I saw her...it was late that night when I was walking back to my dorm room for the last night. I'd seen her in passing, heard her arguing with the men and women working here, but never talked to her. They called her Blondie (probably because she was one of the only girls here who_ didn't _have blond hair). She was strong, brash, and confident... Not now, though. She was sitting against the wall; eyes filled and glazed over with tears and wiping them away herself. She was trying to control her breathing, but she couldn't. "...Are you okay?" I finally managed to ask her, slowly walking over to her.

It was then that it hit me...that she hit me; her long, dark hair, her gentle, light-brown eyes. She was...like nothing I'd ever seen or experienced before. "Why would I be?" she replied, her voice broken.

"I know," I answered. "They're throwing us away." Looking into her eyes, I wiped away one of her tears. I was gentle, caring, and delicate. She looked up at me slowly; she looked shocked, confused, and astounded. "It's not like they haven't taken enough from us, right?" She just stared at me. For a second, I glanced at her body; she was full-figured, curvy, and yet...so weak-seeming.

"You know you're the only one who ever cared enough to ask me what's wrong..." Blondie replied. "I've done this every night..." She folded her lips inward, smiling for an instant. "...Thank you." I nodded and whispered something like, "sure."

I held out my hand for her to help herself up. Instead, she set her hand on my cheek; not in that forceful, sick way Blue did, but in a loving, needful way. Her jaw was slightly dropped, her eyes down, and her breath heavy; she was terrified. I gently put my hand on hers, then slowly pulled her up; our bodies pressed into one another's; her breasts against mine. Her heart was starting to pound...but then again, so was mine. I smiled at her, then wiped off what might have been her last tear that night. She smiled through her pain. She was warm. Of course I wanted it to happen; she must have, too. These things aren't fate; they're our decisions.

"...I wanted to know...what are you here for?" Blondie finally asked between what were practically breaths. I swallowed hard, trying to control my own breathing.

"My stepdad tried to rape my sister and I..." I began to explain. "So I shot at him...but I missed and...killed my sister...Then he called the cops, it was his word against mine, and since no one would trust a teenage girl against her respected father..." I threw my arms out to say, 'here I am'.

"I'm so sorry," she replied, sounding touched and hurt. I felt her grip on my back tighten alittle. "...You've lost everything...haven't you?"

"And I think I'm about to lose more," I answered, feeling my throat start to hurt more and more. "They're gonna shut me up...forever."

"...A lobotomy?" Blondie asked, terrified. I nodded, which was all I could do at this point. "No, that's not fair," she cried. "First they send us off to a brothel, now this...we're just animals to them." With that, she closed her eyes tightly, started crying, and lay her face in my shoulder. I held her tightly, feeling her pounding heart, her stomach, and her breasts against my body, and felt weak. I think she pulled me into her room then.

I fell backwards onto her bed, and looked deeply at her. Crying, Blondie lay her face in my breasts, then lay down on top of me. I ran my hands lovingly through that perfect hair, going all the way down to the tips of each strand; all the way to her back. I pressed down on her top, and quickly pulled it up. She helped herself out of it, and I saw her exposed body. Her toned, perfectly-complected stomach, the cleavage of her all-too-flawless breasts, and then the way her dark hair lay on her shoulders. She got up on her knees, breathing heavily, then lay herself flat atop me. I threw my head back, letting out a massive, pacified breath, and felt her taking off my top. All the while, she was kissing my cheek. Finally, I was down to my bra, and she was staring at me with infatuation. My long, light-blond hair resting on my naked shoulders, I wrapped myself around her, feeling her neck against mine; her flowing ocean of hair coursing across my body, I was defeated.

She was right; the next day, we were sent to a brothel, given new, shameless uniforms to wear, and were told who we would sell ourselves to. Our first customer was, of course, none other than Blue. Now, we all shared a room; Blondie, Amber, girls they called Sweet Pea and Rocket, and me. They ordered us all to disrobe immediately, so I got the horrible pleasure of seeing Blondie completely naked (she was perfect), and she got the same reward on my part. The other girls made me feel, I don't know, kind of uneasy, but we decided to get to know each other. Soon, despite whatever sick reality the madame and Blue wanted us to live in, we became friends; kept in mind that there was more to life than this slavery...and kept ourselves.

"Dance, Sweet Pea," Blue said, sitting down at a table. The girl whispered something to Rocket, who I learned was her younger sister (I couldn't help but feel jealous, but not now). Sweet Pea pulled her leather hood over her golden-blond hair, and began to prostitute herself with the dance. Her legs were fully exposed through the black leather bikini and stalkings, and she was obviously disgusted with herself in every way.

At times like this; time when we feel hopeless, it's easy to imagine being strong; running forever so that no one can ever catch you, fighting giants, shooting machine guns at all of our problems, or just being in another world; a world so cruel, but superficial enough to only attempt to leave physical scars. However, we're still here, and we're still having our minds and souls cut out by men who consider themselves gods before us. I glanced over at Rocket, and couldn't help feel sorry for that poor kid, and her older sister. I remember how she screamed when the madame cut her hair with a knife. How she cried when she looked in the mirror, coated in tight leather, the kind of hat sluts in an army video wore, and a skirt so short it was almost nudity. I felt myself crying for her, but wasn't in much of a better place.

"Babydoll," that sick old man called out. "Haul it over here." I stepped forward slowly, swearing at him thousands of times in my mind. My skin-tight, brown leather boots squeaked as I took each step. I was forced to wear what looked like a Japanese school girl's skirt (maybe a kindergardener's) that was slit down the side so high that it showed the leather bikini they made me wear, and a tiny, tight blue sailor's top. My hair was in long pig tails and bound by a plastic head band. I swallowed hard, forced down the bulging lump in my throat, and then started dancing. I was selling myself; my body, and losing everything, not that I had anything left.

We all lay on our beds, sweating and breathing so heavily it hurt. Rocket had her face pressed into a pillow and was crying so loud it was like a horror movie. Sweet Pea hugged her as long as she could before collapsing on her bed. Me,...I was crying into Blondie's shoulder. She was rubbing my back and stroking my hair to stop me from crying anymore. She was the only one; the only one I wanted; the only one who deserved to every look at me like that...but that was lost now. To make it better...or maybe worse, this was my last day before...

"I don't wanna live without you," she whispered.

"Ssh," I replied. "Please...I love you too much to hear you say that..." With that, I forced my hand into hers, then closed my eyes as the tears started coming again. What did I know about love? Only that I've only felt it twice; once was with the girl I killed...

Maybe as a last honor, or kick, they let Blondie be there when I went in. I lay there, stilled. I was terrified; just like when they had me dance. My hands were strapped down so tight it hurt. Blondie was holding onto a nurse's hand and crying silently. "Turn on the machine," Blue demanded. I felt the shock; it was so terrible I thrust my stomach up in the air to try to find some kind of relief. I gritted my teeth until I heard them crack, and clenched my fists so hard. Then, it stopped, leaving me a weak little rag doll. Taking in heavy breaths, I thought of my night with Blondie...They hadn't taken my mind.

I think I heard her scream, but she couldn't save me now..."Now keep your eyes wide open, Babydoll," Blue whispered to me. "Like when you read a fairy tale to your sister." I lunged up at him for that, only to be slammed down by my bonds. He did the next part himself; pulled out that stained, silver little ice pick and hammer, and gazed into my eyes. I started breathing heavily and sobbing as he got closer. I sniffled, then felt the stabbing pain in my eyes. Then, in that second, it ended.

"Noooo!" Blondie screamed, smashing her fists into the glass and trying to get away from the nurse and into the room. "Babydoll, no, stop!"

"Please," the nurse pleaded. "Blondie, please!"

Bye, Blondie, bye Sis...

...

"What did she do to deserve this?" Blondie demanded, pounding on Blue's chest. _"Look at her! You killed her eyes! You killed her!" I saw her eyes; they were like foggy marbles. She was a doll; an inanimate doll sitting there. I showed the other girls the key she gave me the night before she died..."The nurses don't pay attention," Babydoll had whispered._

_ We all ran out that night, but not before I gave her one last kiss. _"We'll find them," Blue lied later that night.

I smiled, looking at the ground with those foggy little marbles. They couldn't find Blondie...they couldn't stop us...


End file.
